Little Things
by the maids diaries
Summary: This is a series of one-shots about Carol and Daryl through all seasons. M rated for possible smut.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Through the Mourning

They had found a place to stay. It wasn't much, just a deserted house with few supplies and barely enough space to accommodate everyone, but luckily had a well feeding the pipeline and the possibility of taking a real bath made them stop their journey and rest there for a couple of nights.

Beth was buried three days ago in a place away in the woods among prayers of Father Gabriel and Maggie's sobs. All of them had tears in the eyes, all but Daryl. The archer remained far from everyone, sitting on a rock positioned in a place that gave him a clear vision of where Carol was, while Rick and Tyreese dug a grave for the girll.

The fact that he search her with his eyes to make sure she was there and well even in the midst of his pain made her feel like smiling and gave her a will top ut her arms aroung him tight against her chest. Carol knew she couldn't run away, no more. Her life was next to that man and she could not get away from him, even if it meant the ruin of both.

The expression on Daryl's face was impassive despite he was visibly depressed. An explosion of emotion and anger would be better than the disturbing and austere silence that had plunged since he had carried Beth's body away from that place.

Just as he remained attentive to her, Carol watched him within walking distance. The fact that they sit there and share the pain speechless was the particular form of the two to mourning their dead and served them well enough. Carol still felt pain in her abdomen and stabbing pains in her right leg when she forced herself to walk, but would heal soon. She had healed from Ed's worst beatings.

Since then Carol came reliving the day they finally found and buried her little girl on the farm.

That day Carol could not believe her eyes, it wasn't really happening, was it? The image of her daughter coming out of the barn seemed to move in slow motion, slower than her dragging and changing footsteps. Sophia ...

All around Carol had stopped, but the images around her were just a blur meaningless when they occurred. Shapeless and colorless figures that nowadays formed a somewhat confusing picture and maybe somewhat inaccurate.

The world stopped spinning, there was only the sepulchral silence on her ears, even if that thing that had once been his little girl didn't stop making strange noises and drop low yelps. There she was, with her rainbow little T-shirt framing a gray skin and yellow eyes almost shut in a contracted expression due the clarity outside the barn.

The possibility of her precious daughter has become one of those things was inconceivable to Carol. All the love she felt for her, all the pain faced by her and all the terror that she had lived for Sophia made Carol's brain spin, clouding her senses.

"Is that what happens with a sinner that asks God to kill her husband? MY DAUGHTER WAS INNOCENT! " She thought in despair.

A mother without a child has no reason to be. So what if the creature would bite her? Carol's death seemed an infinitely small price to embrace what was left of Sophia's little body. Die in her arms would be a blessing and nothing else mattered, simple as that.

In thousandths of next few seconds her legs were quick to obey her and Carol projected forward into a run toward Sophia. But those steps that seemed about overcome the immeasurable distance between life and death were abruptly interrupted.

Daryl had held her, holding Carol with his arms with such a strength that for a moment their bodies collided and they collapsed together on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs and hands in different directions but equally strong. With one arm he held her close to him, leaning her back into his shoulder to comfort her as she cried in pure and cruel despair.

Only after many months and many other losses and farewells Carol understand how intimate that moment was for both. Daryl's hands on her arm and waist, her back leaning against the against his chest, his warm breath against her neck and their legs close. Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle of only two parts.

"Don't look, don't look!". He told hoarsely when lifting jher off the ground using his own body as support. Carol said nothing, only pulled away from him in an agitated manner, leaving his arms empty in the same abrupt way in which he filled it before rushing toward the RV.

Carol still remembered that he found her there, sitting at the small table, without tears for a briefly moment. They exchanged a quick glance and he remained there, sitting next to her making her company while her thoughts swirled in turmoil. She would not bury it, that was not Sophia. No... her daughter didn't cried herself to sleep, didn't get hungry. Her daugher didn't missed her or called for her. Her daughter had died and she wouldn't bury a walker.

In her mind, as a known and often rewatched film, she relived the images and sensations of the first night her little girl did not even exist as a living or as a reanimated corpse. Carol, from inside the RV, stood in bed with open eyes staring at the dark and heard when Daryl dismissed Glenn from his watch and took his place on roof of the vehicle.

He was not surprised to watch her come up the stairs. Daryl had confessed to her, much later, that despite the sadness and pain, to see her there, standing with her simple and nothing attractive cotton nightshirt swaying in the soft breeze, with tired eyes and red nose, was one of the most beautiful images he had ever seen.

Words were not changed for a long time as they face each other. He could see in that suffered woman's eyes the unspoken gratitude. A soft smile took Daryl's lips and it was enough to make her cover the short space that separated them and bury her face in his neck with her hands at the sides of her own boddy.

Daryl did not move or rejected the unexpected physical contact. After several seconds he leaned his rifle in the chair and let the tips of his fingers of one hand met hers in a subtle and tender touch. Carol did not cry, did not tremble, did not say anything, not even when he his other arm around her waist, pressing her against his chest to kiss her hair.

"Everything will be fine, I'm here with you." Whispered Daryl.

Now Carol understand his motivations and felt her heart cherished the idea that he not only kept her from dying as prevent any living human being to waste its life, he stopped her from dying because it would mean her death, the end of her existence and that he could not allow. Carol had become Daryls' confidencee source and the fact she believed that he was a good man, a man of honor, made him glimpse a small chance to really become the man she believed him to be.

From that night on top of the RV until then much had happened, to the group as a whole and between Carol and Daryl, but some barriers seemed impossible to overcome, even after everything they lived.

Then there was Carol, accommodated in single bed at her own bedroom with the covers involving her tired and aching body even as her mind tried to find a solution to make Daryl react. Only after the storm would be peace for him and then he would be able to overcome the loss of another Young girl who he tried to save at all costs.

What Carol did not expect was to hear the door be opened and closed carefully and did not expect to identify the contours of his shadow walking toward the bed. She lifted the covers and left him accommodate at her side, leaning his head on her shoulder and laying a hand on her belly.

Carol stroked Daryl hair softly as their fingers intertwined over her belly. Their hands always find each other's when they were alone like two magnets. They also had a nasty habit of exchanging kisses hidden at any time and sometimes not always so far apart from the group.

To her surprise, there were no tears or bursts, there was only that comfortable silence that usually settled between them when they were alone. Daryl gently brought her hands together to his face and kissed her hand for long seconds.

"How are ya feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm better. You?"

"Just want to lay here with ya. Do you mind?"

"You can lay with me every night if you want to." And there it was, that tone at her voice, a mix of provocation and mockery that irritated and embarrassed Daryl.

"Pfffff... Stop woman. I can't have my way with ya yet. Ya still recovering."

"So we are going to screw around." She provoked further, moving her hip languidly toward his hip.

"Yeah. I'll give ya what ya want, many times ya want and anywhere ya want." Daryl was kissing her neck. Soft opened mouth kisses that send chills through her spine.

"Why now Daryl?" She asked, looking at him with a curious look on her eyes.

"Cuz I figured out kissing is not enough anymore. Guess I'm ready to take the next step. And I'll make you a decente woman someday too."

He was serious, so serious that it scared her a bit, but Carol knew, of course she knew, that his decision was not a new. The fact he almost lost her twice in the past months and Beth's death maid him move. Finally.

"I'm not marrying you." She told him trying to suppress a smile.

"The fuck you're not, Carol Dixon."

They would be okay.

NA: I really would like to know what you think about it. Hope you all enjoyed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – CDC's bathroom**

It's amazing how happiness is able to fill a person's body even when this is not expected. Obviously death is not an precursor of happiness, but pain and contemplation. However, to Carol, and that God would forgive her, death had brought her happiness above all.

The sense of peace and tranquility was overwhelming after the tears. She was free and fully capable of bringing out to life the real Carol. Finally she could bury next to her husband's remains that humiliated and suffered woman, the woman with no expectation he create. Her conscious was clean and she felt completely satisfied to know that Ed would never lay a single finger on her, he would never oblige her to subdue sexually to his wishes again and would never cause any damage to Sophia. Her daughter was safe.

Despite the large portion of her guilty happiness that come from her husband's death, the fact that they are safely in the CDC was also an important fator in Carol's feelings. From that night on she would not have to sleep in a tent or in a tight vehicle with her daughter, clinging to each other for fear that at any time a walker arose and brought with it destruction.

No, now they had a roof and walls. They had supplies, offices to turn in small apartments, water and even electricity. If the CDC was not the paradise in an apocalypse like that, then Carol did not know what was a paradise. She felt a smile on her lips as she stood with hwe head under the hot water.

The wine was another factor responsible for her present state of mind. Jenner had offered them a good dinner and a fair number of bottles of wine so they could celebrate their arrival at the CDC safely. They all drank and laughed, even Andrea took a few smiles and Daryl was smiling and laughing openly nonstop, acting absolutely different from the taciturn hunter she knew.

The truth was that everyone had their own wounds to heal, but for tonight everything was forgotten and they plunged into the wine's euphoria.

Carol let herself get distracted by the water running in her hair, down the neck, shoulders and back, like a real caress. She had not realized how much she missed a real bath until now. The water relaxed her tense and tired muscles and after a few minutes she felt ready to face a real army of walkers if needed.

Her thoughts intoxicated by the sensation caused by the bath and wine returned to wander toward Dixon as her hands slid the soap throught her body.

Carol got rid of a stormy marriage, a real torment, but by no means the redneck had failed to get her attention. Well, what first caught her attention were his arms, especially the way his muscles flexed and as gave his arms beautiful contours. Daryl Dixon was always doing something, carrying something, chopping wood, hunting, always flexing those arms she secretly adore without drawn to it because the last thing she wanted was Ed noticing the way she looked at Dixon.

"Screw, Ed." She thought.

Carol could not deny that the redneck was a good distraction to take her mind, much less the fact that hi was populating her fantasies when she lay down at night and let herself wonder.

Now, though wonderful, the idea that she could watch Daryl Dixon's muscles without guilt or fear was a little scary. What if he notice? What if others notice? A recently widowed woman should not face a man shamelessly, it could give the wrong impression, or worse, the right one. Besides, she was sure that neither he nor any men from the group would look at her like a possible choice for some sort of romantic or sexual relationship.

She allowed her hands to slide even further, taking south on her belly while a gentle heat start to rise inside her cheast and spread. Whit her eyes closed, she allowed herself imagine how would be the rest of Daryl's muscles and how his hands would feel on her body. The idea of Dixon with her there, touching her, was exciting and Carol sighed. If only she had managed to hide the vibrator in the bag... She could make use of it now.

She then decided it was not the time for that, Lori was with the kids and she had promised to look after them so Lori could take a quiet bath too. Her fantasies would have to wait for another time. Finally she closed the shower and took the towel, wrapping it around her body. And it was only when Carol got out shower stall that she found a Dixon with open shirt and barefoot coming insed the shower area. The surprise made her stop and she stared at him holding the towel against her body.

Daryl stared at her with a fierce glare and let his eyes wander slowly through her body before saying hoarsely.

"Ya shouldn't walk around like this."

Carol noticed that Daryl was staring at her, unable to turn his eyes away. They seemed to follow the way the drops were running down her neck, clavicle and between her breasts to vanish in the area covered by the towel. The simple fact that he was there caused warmed her body again, but the way he looked at her... Oh God.

"There's a bunch of guys here that haven't tasted a warm pussy for a while, could be dangerous." Daryl had a smirk across his lips.

She felt silly standing there not knowing exactly what to say staring back at him. Carol held the towel against the body harder than necessary and looked away from his face. She did not know if he was trying to be funny or not, but his comment was true. Most of the group was male and, well, as far as she knew, many were without sex for some time.

"Go on woman, get the hell out of here before I do something stupid, it's been quite some time since I had a clean and warm pussy to enjoy."

Daryl was obviously drunk and he clenched his teeth for a moment, trying to control himself. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed and he seemed restless, alternating the support of the body's own weight to one foot, then the other. Carol couldn't keep her eyes to travel down his body and held her breath sharply when she noticed a visible erection contained by Daryl's jeans.

"You wouldn't." Carol whispered.

"You don't know me." He challenged her.

Carol began to wonder if his erection was something to do with the simple fact that he was close to an almost naked woman or whether it was the fact that she is almost naked in front of him. Her stomach twitched and Carol found herself hoping his erection was for her as her own body seemed to react to it and a moist heat took the apéx of her thighs.

To her surprise Daryl stepped forward, stopping a few inches from her and she stared at him, watching the way his eyes seemed to look for something on hers. Would it be consent? A shiver ran down Carol's spine and her body betrayed her. Her eyes closed when the tip of his fingers traced the line of hers jaw, gently going down her neck and stopping on her shoulder. A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she felt his breath on her face. Daryl had slightly rough fingers and Carol can not prevent her imagination ran wild. How would it feel to have his fingers caressing other parts of her body.

"You're not the kind of womany that want quick fuck." He growled and Carol opened her eyes slowly. Daryl nibbled his bottom lip, trying to hold back. The fight his intoxicated mind fought with his body was clear and Carol put her hand on his chest, feeling the his strong heart beat.

"You don't know me." She imitated him and let her hand gently slid down to his waist. His skin was so soft.

What was she doing? She did not know and definitely did not want to find out. Daryl's body leaned forward and their noses brushed softly. With their lips separated by a few millimeters, Carol and Daryl shared the same breath. It was all a dream or an illusion and time seemed to stand still. His fingers were again on her neck, now rising to her jaw and Carol resisted the temptation to end the space between their mouths so that those five seconds before the kiss would last forever. _So that's what a woman felt when was about to be kissed by a man_, she thought.

Daryl groaned in exasperation and stepped back, away from her altogether.

"Go back to your daughter. Just go, please."

Carol suppressed a sob and looked at the floor feeling the dumbest creature in the world, but Daryl was right, she was not that kind of woman. With agility, Carol collected the bank's own clothes and headed for the bathroom door, turning to look at him one last time. He was still in the same place, watching her and on her face the disappointment was evident.

"Thank you." It was all she could say.

_Thank you for show me respect, _she thought and went back to her room.

**_AN:_** First I must thanks the lovely reviews and follows! I do love it! There another two bathroom's scenes to go. What do you think? Reviews are gold :D


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